


Recreational Activities (One-shot)

by Monsters_n_Tea



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Breathplay, Developing Relationship, M/M, Oneshot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, quick sweaty sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 14:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7319038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsters_n_Tea/pseuds/Monsters_n_Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quicky in the weapon's storage after training where Hanzo's ribbon ends up about his neck. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recreational Activities (One-shot)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write, at least not often and this is the first time I post, so enjoy and please go easy on me, yes?  
> Unbeta'd.

  
There is not a lot of sweet or tender about the first time they end up tangled together. They had been shooting targets and bots in the training range for hours and both of them were salty with sweat and flushed already from exertion. 

It had started after they'd finally let up, Hanzo with a slightly better score than Mccree as far as accuracy per shot went, when they had gone into the weapon's storage room to put away their training ammo and lock up for the night. Hanzo and Jesse had both a lot and very little in common; disciplined and wild, both looking for atonement, calculating and reckless with a dash of sexual tension so thick you could slice into it like butter. 

So it wasn't surprising when Jesse's bulk pressed into Hanzo; the rōnin turned with a snap to be met with a fleshy forearm to the throat, a lopsided, feral grin across Mccree's lips letting him know it was all part of the game, the little teasing dance they'd been playing at for weeks with looks and accidental touches. Hanzo's nostrils flared, his fingers digging into the arm, legs attempting to kick out but pinned between Jesse's and the empty racks upon the walls. The edge of one was cutting into the nape of his neck, forearm pressing harder. It was a friendly competition between them always, never threatening, always challenging; Hanzo stopped fighting, his fingers leaving behind welts and scratches in favor of working at ripping off the other's man's chest plate.  
"Atta'boy.." a raspy whisper against his flushed cheek, the metallic arm at his waist moving up to tug in jerks at the other sleeve of his yukata, then at the fabric around his waist; it fell with a swish and thud, pouches and metal among silk. The arm at his neck relaxed, but he stayed put against the wall, fingers twitching around the now loosened plate and that ridiculous belt that he'd apparently also loosened, flushed, dizzy and high on the air he could breathe again. Jesse shrugged off his sarape, the chest piece and unbuttoned his pants in a hurry, the hat had fallen off to join the floor long ago. 

It didn't take long, just enough for Hanzo to catch his breath before he was on him again, lips meeting in an aggressive kiss, teeth scraping and tongues wrestling. Hanzo's fingers buried in brown hair while his scarf was all but ripped off, black hair cascading around his shoulders and sticking to the sweat on his face. The silk slid along his neck, cool and soft against heat, a small loop, then a jerk when Jesse twisted it around his metal fingers; the pressure back again, he broke off from the hungry kiss, tilting his head back, panting into the tightening ring.

Something clattered behind him, things that were on the shelves no doubt, the metal elbow dug into chest and his fingers tightened painfully on Jesse's hair, pulling, as his pants were tugged down around his knees where they caught on the tops of his prosthesis, and his left leg was brought up. Something ripped, fabric he thought it sounded like, over the rush of blood in his ears, a mouth worrying at his jaw, rough stubble scraping his face. 

The silk slackened, a gasp, two, and it tightened again in a snap. Only now did he register fingers slick with something that smelled sharp and tangy sliding along his bare thigh, stroking the silky skin of his sac and resting against his entrance. The silk slackened again and Hanzo took another breath, grazing his teeth against Jesse's rough jaw when his head dipped further to worry at the shell of his ear, permission.  
Two fingers stabbed into his body, quick and stinging and he moaned, head tilting back again into the sharpness of the shelf. He wasn't a virgin, the size of them wasn't exactly painful, but it was sudden and rough and delicious and Mccree took no time to drag them quickly in and out, then to scissor the warm passage, slicking whatever he'd coated his fingers with along tender flesh. It was probably gun oil, given where they were...

"You're dang pretty like this." He rasped, shifting Hanzo so he could brace the other ankle on his waist (so that's what had ripped, he thought, though was too horny to care now), the hand that had been probing his ass now cupping the supple flesh of his thigh, and that damned metal elbow still digging into his rib, fingers loosely holding the ribbon. "S-stop talking and hurry-" Hanzo growled, brow knitting and blunted nails digging into Jesse's scalp and the back of his neck, urging him to continue. Jesse tilted his head and grinned, the ass, pulling the ribbon taut once again as he slid into Hanzo in one full, fluid stroke, drawing a line of fire along his insides and despite the discomfort of the awkward position half against the shelves, managing to hit the soft spot of his prostate in that stroke. Hanzo's metal heels dug into Jesse's skin through his pants, pressing him in.  
They both groaned at first and then there was nothing but Jesse huffing at his neck and his own strangled moans; Hanzo felt lightheaded and drunk, being rocked by Mccree's thrusting into his body against the metal shelving, air cut off just enough that his head was buzzing. His fingers of one hand were still curled into the American's hair, his other now slicked with precum and making a very sloppy attempt at stroking himself in time with Jesse's thrusts. All of his muscles were on fire, his cock throbbed and the slide of slick skin on fabric was almost painful to sensitive nerves. 

His skin was bruised, there would be funny indentations and more than a few scrapes along his back, but this, the adrenaline rush of being thoroughly burnt up, breathless and fucked, this suited him just fine. Exhausted and high, when the slip of silk threatened to cut off his air completely, crushing against his adam's apple, his body tightened, snapped and convulsed. Hanzo came with a liquid, rasped moan, the back of his head meeting the shelf, the heat of Jesse's climax filling his body and his own streaking up his chest and almost splattering his chin. 

The ribbon loosened one final time. Only then was Jesse gentle, shuffling Hanzo's now pliant body against his as he lowered them both to the floor and carded his human fingers through the assassin's sweat slicked hair. He whistled, Hanzo cracked an eye open, and that earned him a kiss to a graying temple.  
-

 

They'd made it out, slipped into their respective quarters, showered. Hanzo had folded the now ripped pants under a pillow, thanking the loose fabric that was easy to gather to mask the torn seam, he would fix them, when he had time. Later in the communal space that housed their kitchen as he busied himself making tea, Athena had, with a tone that sounded a lot like chiding, informed him that footage for Storage Room 02 between the hours of 21:16-22:05, had been deleted and to please consider a new space for "recreational activities". 

His skin had flushed from neck to ears and he'd ducked out with his cup of tea, the tips of his fingers gently grazing the now darkening bruise about his neck.


End file.
